


Life Works in Mysterious Ways

by Asnazu



Series: Mysterious Ways [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Season/Series 07, but Jon implies on something more between them, friendship between Arya and Gendry (so far at least), other Starks mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 06:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11503320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asnazu/pseuds/Asnazu
Summary: Even though he believed Arya was alive somewhere, Gendry never thought he would be so close to her again. Now he is sitting across from her bastard brother, talking about the old times that seem so far away.





	Life Works in Mysterious Ways

**Author's Note:**

> My first work in this fandom, hopefully not entirerly awful. I've written this as someone who only watched the show, even though I'm trying to catch up with the books, so look at this only from the TV perspective.

Gendry extinguished the fire and put the tools and the finished plough away into the shed attached to the smith’s house. He took off his leather apron and hanged it on the inner side of the door and locked them. He looked up to the sky, the stormy clouds were promising heavy rain and maybe even a snow, after all the winter was coming, and everyone could sense it.  
“Hello, Gendry,” a small, fat man with a moustache stopped in front of the forge.  
“Liram Baker, what brings you here?”  
“When will Joen be coming back?”  
“The day after tomorrow, he went with Miana to Maidenpool to see his parents. Can I help you somehow?”  
“I would like to have a silver necklace made, my daughter is getting married,” he beamed with pride. _It looked like he gained five more pounds only with that deep breath_ , Gendry thought to himself. He knew that the baker’s daughter Serine made a catch with that miller’s boy and her father was extremely proud of it.  
“Congratulations, but you’re right, you should probably wait for Joen with that. He is so much better with such delicate work.”  
“Okay then, thank you. I will stop by. Gods be with you.”  
“And with you,” Gendry nodded, took a wooden basin and filled it with the rain water from a barrel to wash up his arms and hands. He noticed that three unknown men rode to the square and started dismounting their horses. Judging by the blankets attached to the saddles they were from a faraway place. The heavy cloaks lined with fur made him believe that they were from the North. One of the men had red hair and beard and was wearing clothes made from grey fur and bits of leather that looked like he sew them himself. He looked kind of scary. The second man was tall with dark hair and was dressed like a Northman. Gendry remembered that Lord Stark and his men were dressed just like that – in brown and black colors, leather everywhere where they could put it. The last man seemed familiar but Gendry could not see him clearly as he had his back turned to the young blacksmith.  
“Elys,” Gendry called at the little girl that run by the forge. She stopped and turned to him.  
“Yes, Mr. Blacksmith?”  
“Please tell your father that the plough is ready and he can come to collect it around the dawn,” he said and started drying his hands with a rug.  
“I will, bye,” she waved to him and run away. The man he was looking at earlier turned around and Gendry was finally able to see him. He knew who he was, he would never forget that face.  
“Ser Davos?”  
“Gendry?”

“Ser Davos!” said a deep voice behind him. Gendry turned around and saw the tall man from before. He had a beard and his black hair were tied back in a small ponytail. He was wearing clothes of a Northman in brown and black colors with metal neck plate ornamented with two direwolf’s heads. His gloved right hand rested on a sword whose white pommel was carved into an animal head he could not see very clearly. The man before him looked very similar to a man he saw only once about six years ago. “Is there a problem?”  
“Exact opposite of it, your Grace,” Davos smiled and stepped closer to the man, “this is Gendry, few years back I helped him escape Dragonstone when the Red Priestess tried to sacrifice him in a blood sacrifice.”  
“I thought that Melisandre needed Stannis’ blood relatives for that kind of magic,” he interrupted Davos.  
“That’s right, your Grace. Gendry is …”  
“I’m bastard of Robert Baratheon. Stannis was my uncle,” Gendry shrugged his shoulders.  
“Well then we have something in common.” Gendry wanted to ask what he meant by that. Davos called him “your Grace”, this man was obviously a lord, what could they have in common? He was wearing Stark sigil on his neck plate, thus he had to be a Stark. Robb was dead, maybe he was one of Arya’s younger brothers. No, he looked too old for that. A distant relative probably.  
“Gendry, let me introduce you to the former Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch and current King in the North, Jon Snow.”  
Jon Snow. Snow, a bastard, King in the North? Gendry was sure his surprise had to show on his face, Jon chuckled and confirmed his suspicion. Jon Snow, the name ringed in his head. Arya …  
“Jon Snow? Arya’s beloved brother?” Gendry blurted out before he could stop himself.  
“You know Arya?” Jon’s face showed mix of shock and hope.  
“I do, well maybe I should say I did. I haven’t seen her for four years.” For a moment Jon looked little disappointed but quickly restored his neutral expression.  
“Please, come sit with us, we are going to have a lunch. I would like to talk to you about my sister. Fill in some blanks. I have the feeling there is a lot to talk about.”  
“You can come to my house, I live only few meters away. It’s small but private.”

“So please tell me, how did you met Arya?” Jon asked when he, Davos and the Wildling leader Tormund sat down around the small table in Gendry’s house and the food and the ale were passed around.  
“I was born in King’s Landing, I lived my whole life there. My mother was a tavern girl and she died when I was very young, I never met my father and until recently I didn’t even know his name. One day an unknown lord paid the apprentice fee and I started learning to be a blacksmith. That is also how I met Lord Stark.”  
“You knew my father?” Jon asked surprised that the world is that small.  
“I didn’t knew him, I met him once,” the young blacksmith corrected him, “he complimented on my work and asked me about my mother. Then he left and few weeks later he was thrown into the dungeon for betrayal. And after another few days he was publicly executed. That day, my master Tobho Mott told me I was going to join the Night’s Watch. Next day I left to join the other recruits and I met Arya there. I helped her get rid of some bullies and we eventually became friends.”  
“She was among the recruits for the Night’s Watch?” the young king’s brown eyes widened in shock and disbelief.  
“Yes, she was disguised as a boy, wearing boy’s clothes, had short hair and called herself Arry. Later she told me that Yoren, the recruiter for the Watch, recognized her at the execution of Lord Stark and was trying to get her out of the King’s Landing and back to Winterfell or to you to the Wall,” Gendry paused and took a drink from his cup.  
“I knew Yoren, he was friend of my uncle Benjen and my father. He left shortly after I came to the Castle Black and never returned.”  
“He was killed by a Lannister soldier.”  
“I have the feeling that too many good men were killed by Lannisters,” Jon muttered more to himself that to any of the men by the table.  
“The gold cloaks came looking for me, but Yoren refused to give me up. Arya thought they were after her, by then I had already suspected that she was hiding something. I realized she was girl, but I could not understand why she thought they were looking for her. She made me swear I would not tell anyone and admitted that she is Arya Stark of Winterfell. I remember I called her m’lady, she almost stabbed me with the Needle.”  
Gendry smiled at the memory, but Jon noticed that his eyes remained somehow sad, like they were hidden by a layer of … what? Grief or was it guilt? He couldn’t really tell.  
“That sounds like her,” Jon chuckled. An image of Arya formed in his mind, hot-blooded, strong-minded, independent, just like the day he saw her for the last time. Exact opposite of the naïve Sansa he knew. How much Sansa had changed? How much did he changed? And would he still recognize Arya, wouldn’t she be a completely different person?  
“Later the gold cloaks returned with Lannister soldiers, Yoren still didn’t surrender and they killed him. They took the rest of us that survived the fight as prisoners to Harrenhal,” Gendry’s voice got through his thoughts once again. “Brotherhood Without Banners was sabotaging everything they could and they were getting on the Lannisters’ nerves, so they tried to get as much information about them as they could by torturing everyone in their reach. Then, the day I was chosen for the questioning none survived, Tywin Lannister came and put stop to everything. He was the only one who realized that Arya wasn’t a boy and he made her his cupbearer.”  
“She was cupbearer to one of the brightest military minds in the Westeros and he didn’t know who she was?” Davos asked, disbelief and incredulity dripping from his voice like melting ice from an icicle.  
“Well if he did, he didn’t tell and I doubt he would let that information slip. As far as I know he wanted to blow all the Starks from the world’s surface. So as I see it - Tywin Lannister had a Stark right under his nose and he didn’t know. The shadow is always darkest under the candle.”  
“I think it’s brilliant,” exclaimed Tormund.  
“And very dangerous,” Jon’s eyes narrowed looking at the excited Wildling, “but it’s past. I am glad she got out.”  
“With a help of one of Arya’s friend we escaped Harrenhal, only to be captured later by the Brotherhood Without Banners. After we answered few of their questions we were free to leave or to stay with them. We decided to stay for a while. Then the Red Priestess came, I remember Arya didn’t like her from the very start. That day she wanted to leave, to keep going North or West to Riverrun, basically anywhere where her family was. I wanted to stay,” Gendry stopped talking and looked into his cup. A memory started to play in front of his eyes, a scene he saw into the last detail even after all this time.

 _“Robb needs good men too. We will leave tomorrow and then you would …”_  
_“What? Serve him? I’ve served men my entire life. I served Master Mott in King’s Landing and he sold me to the Watch. I served Lord Tywin at Harrenhal wondering every day if I get tortured or killed. I’m done serving.”_  
_“You just said you would be serving Lord Beric,” she pointed out, he sighed wondering why she was so smart._  
_“He may be their leader but they choose him, because they are brothers. They are family.” He could read the pain in her eyes as she turned around. “I’ve never had a family,” he said quietly looking at her back trying to make her understand._  
_She turned around, facing him again, “I can be your family,” she said, her voice shaking._  
_“You won’t be my family,” he smiled sadly, “you would be my lady.” The last thing he saw before she left was sadness that was forming tears in her eyes, sadness that changed into hurt and betrayal. The moment she marched from the cave he realized that she considered him family and he was too blind to see that._

Jon was watching this man sitting right in front of him and tried to imagine what he was reminiscing. So many emotions crossed his face. He didn’t know what happened between them but he was sure that they didn’t part on good terms. That look, he knew that look, Jon realized suddenly. He saw it when he said Ygritte that he was returning to the Watch. That is the same look Ygritte wore when she released the arrow after he told her he loved her. Immediately he started wondering what really happened between his sister and this man.  
Gendry looked at the young king and realized that something has changed. His eyes were different, before they were full of interest, maybe little skeptical but kind. Now hard and fierce eyes of a warrior were looking back at him. And he couldn’t tell why.  
“The next day the Red Priestess took me away and I’ve never seen Arya since. That was four years ago and not a single day will pass that I will not think about her. Where she is, what she does, does she think about me? What would happen if I listened to her and went with her when I had the chance? She was so young and yet she had better instincts than I had.”  
“Tell me, what exactly you were to my sister?” the king asked coldly and Davos and Tormund threw him confused looks. Gendry didn’t quite understand what he meant by that.  
“I … I was her protector and voice of reason, but mostly a friend. Someone she could trust.”  
“Really, just a friend?” Jon looked at Gendry with a firm expression and suddenly the blacksmith understood the true direction of the question. Was he crazy?  
“What – no, no. Are you out of your mind? We were friends – how could you even – she was a child for all the Gods! Child of eleven when I met her!” Gendry stuttered and jumped from his seat, placing his closed fists on the table and towering over the king.  
Davos and Tormund flinched at the sudden outburst. Davos started thinking if he would be able to react quickly enough to stand in front of his king should this man decide to attack. Tormund looked the boy up and down, wondering if he could take down Jon Snow, the best swordsman of his time, as the Southerners called him. Jon was closely watching the blacksmith’s reaction. If only Sansa was here to tell him if he is saying the truth, if he should trust him. She is the master of reading people. But Gendry looked like he was genuinely disgusted by the mere image.  
“When I found out she was a girl and high-born girl on top of it I was so ashamed that I even pissed in front of her and made stupid jokes! You really think I laid with her?” he was shaking with an anger, his knuckles turning white, “If anyone even tried that … if I found out that anyone even thought about that, he would meet my hammer. And I mean anyone.”  
Jon watched the rage that was pumping through Gendry’s body, he looked furious, for a moment he thought he would jump over the table and punch him. Maybe he wanted to do that but stopped himself.  
“I may not be a warrior like you or a king, I’m just a bastard blacksmith with not really kind attitude towards aristocracy and royalty, but I AM a decent man who doesn’t lures little girls in his bed.”  
“If I may say something, your Grace,” Davos started, both men interrupted their murdering gaze match and looked towards him, “when I met Gendry in the cells under Dragonstone, he told me that he let the Red Priestess to lure him into bed because he never was with a woman.”  
“And you believe him?” Jon asked neutrally.  
“There is no reason to lie when you’re about to be a sacrificed, my lord.”  
Jon nodded. “I believe you and I apologize for my awful accusation, it wasn’t fair.”  
“No, it wasn’t. But I understand, you don’t know me and you are worried about your sister. Worrying about Arya, that’s something I can understand.” Gendry sat down and refilled his cup. “Have you heard anything about her?”  
“Actually we did. Brienne of Tarth swore to Lady Catlyn that she would find her daughters and bring them to her. She remained true to her mission even after Lady Stark’s death and eventually found Sansa. She told her that she met Arya near the Eyrie about three years ago. Robb and Lady Stark were dead, so Brienne decided to go to the Vale to see if Arya didn’t visit her Aunt Lysa Arryn, who by the time was also dead. She met her dressed as a boy, practicing with the Needle, she was with a man who had half of his face burned. I think his name was Sandor Clegane.”  
“The Hound,” Gendry and Davos gasped.  
“I knew I heard that name before, how could I miss it.”  
“She was with the Hound?”  
“Yes, according to Brienne, he didn’t want to leave her and she didn’t want to leave him.”  
“I don’t believe that, she hated him,” Gendry said.  
“Brienne fought him and won. But she couldn’t find Arya anywhere, it was almost like the ground swallowed her. But if anyone can survive on their own, it’s Arya. I just hope she will return home someday.”  
“I believe … no I know she is out there somewhere,” Gendry corrected himself.  
“How could you know that?” Davos asked curious.  
“Because the other option is terrifying. She had to hide somewhere, waiting for the air to clear out.”  
“Probably.”  
“What if she’s not in Westeros anymore?” said Davos suddenly.  
“What?” Jon and Gendry asked in unison.  
“Well it would make sense, wouldn’t it? She couldn’t go south, there were Lannisters, she couldn’t go west, she wouldn’t find the Tully’s banners flying over Riverrun, her Aunt was dead and Winterfell was under Bolton’s rule. The only place she could go was the Castle Black and I’m sure she realized how risky that journey would be even if she could rely on the loyal Stark banner men. Her family was either dead or kept hostage, she had nowhere to go. What if she left Westeros and went to Essos?”  
“Truth is nobody would ask her questions there and it would explain why none heard from her for three years.”  
“Braavos,” Gendry whispered more to himself as the realization hit him suddenly.  
“What did you say?”  
“I said … she would go to Braavos. That friend of hers who helped us escape Harrenhal was from Braavos, he was a Faceless man. If she didn’t have anywhere to go, she would go there. She would want to have her revenge, to cross the names of her list.”  
“What kind of list?” Jon frowned.  
“List of people who hurt or wronged her family and friends. Cersei Lannister, Joffrey Baratheon, Ilyn Payne, Meryn Trant, The Hound, The Mountain, Tywin Lannister, Walder Frey. Maybe there were even others.”  
“Revenge list, that’s smart,” Tormund said. “I like that girl.” Jon sighed and put his head on his folded hands on the table. Gendry watched the king’s actions that were not kingly at all with surprise. Apparently the Wildling leader was a funny person to have around.  
“Tell me again why I saved you from the White Walkers? My life would be so much easier.”

After the dinner Davos lead off horses to the local handler, so they would be taken care of for the time they were at the Dragonstone and Tormund was sent to buy some food for the road. Gendry was preparing to go to the forge once more to hand over the finished plough to the customer. Jon was still sitting at the table, thinking. Gendry sat across him once more and when he got the king’s attention he spoke.  
“Can I go with you?”  
“Where?”  
“Wherever you are going to.”  
“We are heading to Dragonstone to see Daenerys Targaryen and then back home to Winterfell,” the king revealed his plans.  
“Like I said, can I join you?”  
“You would want that?” Jon asked curious, “I thought that after all that happened to you on the Dragonstone, you would not want to return to that place again.”  
“Well Stannis is not there, is he?” Gendry shrugged his shoulders.  
“No, he isn’t,” Jon smiled, “if you really want to go with us, I don’t have anything against it. There is big, decent forge in Winterfell that would need a blacksmith, maybe even a master.”  
“What happened to the previous one?” Gendry asked carefully, curious about the former smith’s fate.  
“I don’t really know, he probably died in the battle on the Ramsay’s side. Don’t get me wrong, I will take a skilled blacksmith with me any time, but I must wonder, have you not built life here?” Jon looked around the small cottage, probably searching for any indication that Gendry did not live here alone.  
“I never did. I’ve always knew this would be a temporary stay. That man who took me in – Martyn – he was old and could no longer to work alone. His only son died fighting for the Lannisters and his daughter was too young and therefore single. I guess he hoped she would want to marry me someday, but that was never my intention.” _She was nothing like Arya_ , he said to himself. It took him few months to realize that every girl he met he compared to that little girl he once knew. “At the end she married Joen, the youngest son of a Maidenpool’s blacksmith, and after Martyn died, he took over the forge. It’s my time to go.”  
“But why? Did they threw you out?” Jon frowned at that thought.  
“No, this forge may be big enough for an old man and his young helper, but is too small for two young, healthy and experienced blacksmiths,” Gendry assured him. Joen and Miana were nice to him and wanted him to stay, but he knew he should move on. “Few weeks ago I didn’t know where I would go, but it looks like the fate gave me a sign.”  
“Well then, pack your warmest clothes, after all winter has come,” Jon stood and clapped the young blacksmith on the shoulder.  
“I guess I should buy a new warm cloak.” _And gather all the things I will need_ , he thought. Clothes, gold he saved up, a blanket, his leather apron, hammer and few other necessities of a smith.  
“You know what? When we reach Winterfell I will give you my old one. The cloak I was wearing when I went to the Wall.”  
“But that’s …” Gendry stuttered.  
“Why let a good cloak just lie around unused. Consider it my thank you.”  
“But for what?” Gendry didn’t understand.  
“For keeping an eye on my sister, of course,” Jon said like it was obvious.  
“I failed in that task,” Gendry whispered, guilt lingering in his voice.  
“Not in my eyes. You helped her when she needed it, even though you didn’t know who she was. And what more, you stayed by her side even after you knew and not for the image of gold. You tried to keep her safe as long as you could. I can’t even describe the feeling I have now that I know she had someone she to turn to. Even though she is brave and strong, that times must be difficult for her, being surrounded by enemies, not knowing who she could trust. I can’t even imagine it now, much less in that age. I will offer you a deal – a cloak, position of Winterfell’s blacksmith and a place at my table.”  
“That’s overly generous, your Grace.”  
“Please don’t call me that. I’m just Jon, always was. And not be mistaken you will probably have to work hard and for long hours. No matter if we will get the deal with the Dragon Queen or not, we are going to war. And the enemy will not outwait the storm, he brings the storm.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, it is not said in the story, but I imagined that Gendry never went back to King's Landing and rather stayed somewhere in the Crownlands, maybe in some small city at Crackclaw Point. Jon is driving through that city on his way to Dragonstone.


End file.
